HENRI CARTIER-BRESSON. 1908-2004

[Stanley]

HENRI CARTIER-BRESSON. 1908-2004

5 August 2004

Today, the 5th of August 2004 we got news that the greatest 20th century photographer was buried yesterday after an unannounced death two days ago. He was 93 and had simply stopped eating and died.
This news triggered off a train of thought and I went into my files to see whether I could find a piece I had written about Magnum, the picture agency founded by Cartier-Bresson and others after WW2. All I could find was a short sentence in my memoirs about the day I door-stepped the Magnum office and kissed Eve Arnold’s hand before going out to lunch with Philip Jones-Griffiths. The problem I have is that there is a story connected with this which I am sure I’ve already written but can’t find it. There is only one sensible thing to do, write it down again for posterity.

GEORGE RODGER, DAVID HURN AND THE LEICAS
George Rodger was one of the founding members of Magnum and knew Cartier-Bresson well. Like him, he favoured the Leica 35mm camera because of it’s small size, quality of image and simplicity. As Magnum grew in importance Leica saw an opportunity to promote their camera by making sure that the best images were being made on their cameras.
At some point, I don’t know the date, they brought out a special edition camera called (I think) the Leica ‘P’ which was never put on general sale, it was given by Leica to famous Leica users. Cartier-Bresson and George Rodger were two of these.
Sometime in 1982 David Moore, Principal of Nelson and Colne College, asked me to arrange a seminar on photography for students on a course run by his private company, Sovereign Education. I came up with the idea of getting George Rodger to do the seminar. As far as I knew he had never spoken publicly about his photography but I contacted him at his home in Smarden, near Ashford in Kent and went down to visit him. He agreed to do the seminar but the course never happened because not enough students signed up. However, during my visit he told me a story about his days at Magnum.
He said that Leica gave him two Leica ‘P’ bodies and a full set of lenses to go with them and he used them for years with no problems at all. One day he was asked to do a picture of Harold Wilson for the front cover of Time Magazine so he arranged a meeting, trotted off, blew two rolls of Tri-X off and headed back for his office where he gave the films to his technician for developing.
Shortly afterwards the technician came in and suggested that George might like to view the films as there was a problem. George told me he went in and was astounded to find that he’d cut off the top of Harold Wilson’s head in every frame bar the last one. This frame was sent off to Time, they printed it and George got the fee but he was left with the puzzle as to what had gone wrong. Eventually George found out that the problem was that his new tri-focal spectacles were interacting with the viewfinder on the Leica in such a way that he was getting a false picture of what he was framing in the camera.
George said that when this happened he had an offer laid on his desk from Olympus Cameras offering him a full outfit of their new 35mm camera and lenses if he would use them exclusively. They were after the same deal that Leica had had. He tried one of the cameras, found that the framing suited him and his glasses, liked the lens quality and the decreased weight and so went over to using them.
As his Leicas were redundant he eventually sold them to a friend of his and forgot about the matter until he was talking to someone one day who noticed he was using Olympus cameras and asked him what he had done with his Leicas. George told him and was astounded when the man pointed out that the Leicas were unique and worth far more than he had sold them for. George got on to the friend to whom he had sold the cameras only to find that they had been stolen from a hotel room in New York. End of story and two disgruntled snappers.
Life can be very strange and it is a constant source of wonder to me the way connections become re-activated years after an event.
In July 2001 in an entirely different context I was invited to take part in a week long workshop in the Elan Valley in Wales run by the BBC to test the technology of digital storytelling. One of the other participants was a man called David Hurn who is, to my mind anyway, one of our best contemporary photographers and works very much in the same way that the original Magnum agency was founded on. We got on well and had some very interesting conversations during the course of which I told him my George Rodger story.
I noticed that he was paying particular attention and when I finished he said that he was amazed. It turned out that he was the man who had bought the cameras off George and had them stolen in New York. He knew nothing about the previous history and so between us we finally arrived at the complete story.
David was very pleased to get the cameras off George and had taken them all to New York to use on an assignment. I say ‘all’ but that’s not quite true, he had sold one body to Philip Jones-Griffiths, another Magnum photographer and added incidentally that he thought Philip had put it into a safe deposit and that with hindsight, he should have done the same!
When David arrived in New York he had to go out for an appointment immediately and left all his baggage in the hotel room. When he came back he had been robbed and the cameras and lenses had gone. However, he said there was something very strange about it as his money, credit cards, passport and travel documents were with the cameras but they hadn’t been touched. It was almost as if someone knew exactly what they were after. He informed the police but the cameras were never seen again as far as I know.
So there you are, I’ve recorded the story for posterity in less time than it would have taken to search for it. Isn’t it marvellous how the long arm of coincidence reaches out over the years and can eventually fill in the gaps for you. Truth can be stranger than fiction.
(As usual, the mind plays tricks over the years. I sent the NOP to David and here’s the mail I received from him which corrects some of my mistakes.)
Dear Stanley. Thank you for your thoughts. I must say I heard of the death of Henri with incredulity, he seemed immortal - his work is.
For your future reference, a few minor corrections. Cartier-Bresson was 95 at his death. The camera you talk about was the original MP camera not P. (they have just made another MP copy). George sold me three cameras not two - I sold one to Philip. The advantage of the MP at that time was that it was the only Leica that took a rapid wind on the bottom. It is true that Philip did put the camera into a safe but I suspect that was much later, I am sure he originally used it. The cameras at the time were not really worth that much as people were not collectors at that time. Certainly George would not have phoned me re the value of the camera, he was far to much of a gentleman to do such a thing.
Life is good for me, I never seem to stop working. I really should slow down but there seems so much to do and so little time to do it in. Everything I have to carry seems to be getting heavier! Best, David.

5 August 2004